Torstain lapsi siivet saa
by MadCheshire
Summary: Castiel Novak is a violinist on his way to fame. His life seems perfect on the surface, but he suffers from long-time depression and a permanent nerve damage on his right leg. Dean Winchester on the other hand is an alcoholic and unsuccessful writer that can't get over his brother's death. Both are broken and hate their lives. Together they make it a little better for themselves.
1. Prologue

**AN: God, I don't really know what I'm doing, starting a work this depressing. The idea popped into my head three days ago and I somehow thought 'okay, I'm trying to write this', so here is the random prologue. I would be really glad if I get any comments on how the idea sounds or do you like the start. I'm just hoping it will be clear to read and that it won't be confusing. Oh, and only this chapter is in first person. The rest of the fic will be in third person and the chapters will be longer.**

**If you are curious, the title is in Finnish and translates as something like 'Thursday's Child Shall Get Wings'. The idea somehow sparked from some poem my grandmother showed to me (Sorry, I don't know the author or name as it was in some album and there was no name attached) that had the line and it immediately brought Castiel to my mind. However, I didn't figure any good sounding translation, so I just left it in Finnish... And yes, I'm Finnish, so don't be surprised by any grammatical mistakes I'll make.**

* * *

I always wanted to believe I would become something. That I would **mean** something.

All those faces mocking me would be the ones left to die with nobody remembering them. All those dreams of fame and money would be in vain. I knew that, as well as I knew that when they followed the pack like mindless dolls they were, they left behind their uniqueness. They were like clones, programmed to fit in and laugh at those who didn't.

But it was always the **freaks**. We would always be the ones who get the attention, let it be in school or in the world out there. The only difference was the attitude towards us.

In school, we were the laughing stock. The other kids amusement was throwing our stuff into the puddle after a whole day of raining, beating us up when we wouldn't do their homework for them, making fun of us because our clothes didn't look right. The usual stuff.

The real world on the other hand, it would embrace us. These so called 'popular kids' would become depressed alcoholics with their stupid little families and us, the ones they called weirdoes in high school, we were the ones that attracted attention of the world. Just because we weren't copies of each other, because we were unique individuals.

I hated it when I realised I was right. Well, except for one part: We all will without a doubt fall into a circle of depression before death comes for us.

* * *

I was bright eyed when I was a kid. I thought the world was a wonderful place. Then the reality hit me and I realised people just died around me. First my mother, then my father and last year my brother. I was left alone.

Life is full of disappointments and it's only matter of time before each of us will kick the bucket. It doesn't matter if it's by your own hand or someone else's. One way or another, someone will pull that trigger or tie that rope. In the end we all end in the same place, under the ground as our bodies rot away.

I had promised my brother I wouldn't do it, not after our dad killed himself so I didn't. I continued on living, if my situation could be called 'living'. I became alcoholic after my brother died in that accident. I dropped out of college and got stuck in a boring job as a janitor at the hospital. Of course, I didn't have anyone to share my life with and one night stands were a more regular thing for me. Friends in my life I had the amazing amount of four.

Sometimes, when I was alone in my small apartment while watching TV, I wondered why I had to be the one with such a fucked up life and cursed to myself the people on TV that had such perfect lives.


	2. Alcohol and drugs to numb the mind

**AN: First proper chapter! Yay!**

**First of all, this story will contain alcohol abuse, mentions of suicide, drug usage and some other stuff. If these are hard subjects for you or something, I suggest you not to read.**

**And I just wanted to mention their ages: Cas is 19 in this and Dean is 22.**

**Uhm, yeah, I hope there isn't anything unrealistic and hopefully you enjoy and stuff!**

* * *

Castiel shifted nervously in his place, gripping his crutches tighter as he felt his violin case's strap slowly sliding down his shoulder. His leg had already started to ache few minutes ago, but he ignored it like always. Having this nerve damage since he was a child had made him used to the pain, he had even started to like it on some level. It was nicely numbing, made him forget about his shitty life even for a second. "Mr Milton?"

His head shot up, facing a young nurse with a blonde hair tied up in a bun. "Ah sorry, I was lost in my thoughts." Castiel apologised, flashing an assuring, yet obviously fake smile. "Was there something else or am I allowed to leave?" He asked cautiously, hopes of getting out of the hospital building inside of him.

"We just need you to sign this form and you're free to go." She answered, pushing the said form forward with her long and thin fingers.

With a sigh Castiel balanced his weight on his other crutch while he carefully set the other one leaning against the counter. His signature was hurried and messy and honestly he didn't give a shit how it looked. He just wanted out. "We'll see you next month Mr Milton." She chirped, taking the form back and slipping it somewhere under the counter.

"Yeah, see you next month." Castiel muttered as he snatched his other crutch and headed for the exit.

Lucifer was late, Castiel noted after standing about three minutes at the front entrance where his brother-slash-manager had usually been waiting for him. He wasn't sure whether he should be happy or annoyed at his older brother's tardiness. He certainly didn't like standing there as the pain in his leg kept getting worse but he didn't want to go to the concert rehearsals either.

"You know what?! I'm quitting!" Castiel almost jumped at the sudden yell and his head snapped around to the doors, just in time to see a man throw a mop to the nearest bush in his anger. "God dammit." He grumbled under his breath and put his hand into his green jacket's pocket, pulling out a flask. At that moment green eyes met blue ones and they couldn't help but stare each other. "You want some?" The man asked, offering the flask towards Castiel to break their pointless staring.

Castiel's lips parted slightly as his eyes drifted down the man's face, to his neck and broad chest and eventually to the hand that held the flask. He nodded and reached for it, bringing it to his lips right away. The unfamiliar taste of whiskey pouring down his throat made Castiel frown, but he still took a generous swig.

"So, you're not a drinker?" The man chuckled, downing quite a bit of the whiskey himself after Castiel handed him the flask back.

Shaking his head, Castiel turned around with his crutches to face the man properly. "Not really." He admitted, "But I really needed that." Castiel wiped his mouth onto his shoulder, still feeling the burning sensation on his lips.

"I know that feeling." He took another sip before he slipped the flask back where it came from. "Do I know you from somewhere?" The man questioned and narrowed his eyes slightly. "I'm quite sure I've seen you before." He took steps forward, closer to Castiel, and tucked both of his hands into his pockets.

Castiel smiled, letting his gaze fall to the ground as a slight blush crept over his cheeks. "Uh- I'm Castiel Novak- The violinist." He muttered.

Two loud beeps of a car horn caught their attention, followed by Lucifer's yelling. "Castiel, get your ass in here!" Castiel winced, realising that Lucifer was on one of those days he would snap really easily. His eyes travelled between Lucifer's huge car and the man before he sighed in defeat and turned to get in.

"It was nice meeting you." Castiel mumbled to the man as he climbed clumsily in to the car through the door Lucifer had opened for him.

The man, Dean Winchester, was left standing there in confusion.

* * *

Dean was on his third bottle of beer when his phone started playing a familiar guitar riff. He was on his back on the too-small sofa, his right hand playing with the half-empty bottle on the floor while his left hand reached for his phone somewhere on the tiny coffee table. "Hello?" He yawned to the speaker after he finally brought the phone to his ear.

"_So, I heard you quit today."_

He bit his lip at the sharp scolding tone at the other end of the phone. "That head nurse was an ass and I couldn't stand her so I might have snapped." Dean admitted, pushing himself up and leaning on his other arm "If all you wanted to do is to scold me, I'm going to hang up now, Jess."

Jessica Moore was Dean's brother Sam's girlfriend before that accident. She had taken the job of taking care of Dean after Sam's death, making sure he did okay. She even was the one who got him the Job at the hospital, through some friend studying to be a nurse apparently. _"I'm scolding you because of a good reason, Dean Winchester!"_ Jess almost screamed and Dean could imagine her annoyed face and her hands on that tiny waist in a threatening pose, despite the woman's small size. _"Why would you quit your job? How the hell are you planning on paying your rent now?"_

Dean rubbed his temple and reached for his beer to drink away his budding headache. "I don't know Jess and honestly don't give a shit at the moment." He started wondering if he should hang up on Jess, but knew that then she would most likely turn up at his door. Then it would be good bye to his beers in the fridge. "Look, I promise I try to find another job. Until then, I'll keep writing."

"_You're still doing that?"_ Jess sighed and her words felt like a punch to the gut for Dean. For his whole life comments like that was all that he had heard about his dream of becoming a writer. He hated how he never got the support from his dad, how he said it was a fucking waste of time. He hated how each and every person he knew laughed at his ambition. Well, except Sam. Sammy was the only one ever to support him. He always pushed him, saying that he could do it.

Dean swallowed rest of his beer before he slumped back onto the sofa. "Yes, I'm still doing it." He groaned as he resisted the urge to hang up.

"_I got you that job at the hospital because you obviously couldn't make a living out of writing, Dean." _Dean frowned and moved his phone to his other ear. _"I know you want to finish that book for Sam, but you need to take care of yourself. At the moment you have no source of income so you should worry about other things than that freaking book of yours."_

"I don't care enough about myself."

"_You should. I know about that promise you gave to Sam."_

"What does it matter Jess?! Sam's dead and it wouldn't matter to him if I would put a fucking gun to my head and pull the trigger." Dean snapped at the girl, his fingers tightening around the phone. He swallowed and breathed calmly few times, but the sudden burst of anger inside him didn't calm down. "I'm going to hang up now. Don't bother coming here because I'll most likely ignore you by playing rock as loud as I can and drink beer until I pass out. Later Jess."

Soon Dean's phone met the floor, causing it to break into three parts that each flew into different parts of his small apartment. Dean cursed, but didn't bother to put it back together, only headed for the fridge for his fourth beer and settled in front of his computer.

Dean stared at the word-document he had opened, letters on the screen forming the title _'Chapter 7'_. His fingers hovered for a while on the keyboard before he finally got to writing and words typed to the white page quickly.

_They had stopped at a shabby gas station after driving for a good while. Jensen went ahead to buy food for them from the small shop while Jared stayed inside the car, going through Jensen's small collection of cassettes with a frown on his face. "Hey," Jensen called, lifting the food he had in his hands to show Jared. "You want breakfast?"_

He tilted his head, reading the just written paragraph a few times before backspacing it away. Writing was so hard.

As Dean leaned against his hand and stared at the blank page, his mind returned to the blue-eyed man, Castiel Novak, he had met earlier that day. He said he was 'the violinist'. The face did ring a bell, unlike his name. He admitted to himself that he might have seen the guy on TV or something, considering he had said his name like Dean should have known who he was.

The only reasonable thing to do was to google the guy. Considering that he was probably somewhat famous, Dean thought it wouldn't be that creepy. Still, as his web browser opened, a slight hesitation budded inside of him before he dared to write 'Castiel Novak' to the search bar and press enter.

* * *

Castiel was so fucking tired when he finally got home. Violin case was abandoned right next to his score stand and both crutches dropped to the floor before he wobbled on top of his bed, landing on his stomach.

His dad was off on some business trip and his older sister at some friend's house so it was just him and Lucifer. Considering this fact, Castiel found his best option to be locking his bedroom door and curling up to a little ball on his bed. He honestly didn't know how to handle his brother on these bad days of his so Castiel had formed a habit of avoiding him as much as possible.

He reached for his meds on the nightstand next to his bed and played with the small container before popping the cap open. There was still about third of the pills left and Castiel frowned. He was quite sure he had got the new bottle not too long ago so it was bit strange that there was so little left. He still took two pills and swallowed them dry so they left a strange feeling in his throat, like there was a lump left in his throat.

Castiel rolled to his side, wrapping his arms around himself. He could hear muffled sounds of TV coming from downstairs, but he ignored it the best he could. He laid there, waiting for the pills to kick in, to blur his mind and dull his pain away.

He felt like he couldn't take it anymore. He didn't feel like going to the concert rehearsals at all and whenever he managed to be at home, he locked himself in his room, only coming out when required. Not like his family cared. His dad was always on business trips, hardly at home for more than a week. Lucifer wouldn't care about him, just his talent and Anna, she had distanced herself from Castiel a few years back. His mother didn't know anything about his life situation as she had moved to Germany soon after the divorce.

Now his only comfort was his medication and music and the latter had started to lose its effect on Castiel. Now when he put on one of his favourite CDs, it was more of a habit than a way to comfort himself anymore. It was a way to block out outside world's noises, like now when Lucifer watching TV started to annoy him way too much.

Castiel dragged himself to his CD player and pushed inside a CD randomly. Soon the first few notes of Metallica's One started playing and he slid along the wall to a small ball on the floor. He started crying uncontrollably, sleeves of his shirt dampening from the salty tears.

Eventually he fell asleep, but tears kept falling down his cheeks even when he was in his dreams.


	3. Alternative Methods

Dean felt like a creeper. Well, he actually might have been very close to one. Who the fuck even googled a person and then ended up outside of the concert hall, hoping that the person in question would happen to have rehearsals that day. Stalkers, that's who, but Dean wasn't a stalker. At least he believed so himself.

He wasn't able to forget those blue eyes so there he was, sitting in his beloved Impala and eyeing the doors of the concert hall. The curiosity perked inside him was unbearable. Cas, as Dean had named the violinist inside his head, was nineteen according to his Wikipedia-article. Apparently he had started making a name for himself at the age of fifteen, winning competition after another. Now days he studied music at a university while composing his own music and did occasionally concerts that were usually sold-out.

There were two things that seemed odd to Dean: First, Cas' family had been described as amazing and loving, but Dean could still remember the sight of Castiel's shoulders tensing as his brother, going with the name Lucifer, had commanded the poor guy into the car in not-so-loving tone.

And second, Castiel had had crutches. Sure, it wasn't that odd, but Dean hadn't found any mentions of Castiel having problems with his feet. No news articles of accidents or any pictures of him using the crutches. To the public, he seemed like nothing was wrong.

Dean's fingers tapped against the dashboard in the beat of AC/DC's Back In Black when people started pouring out of the concert hall, each carrying different shaped cases for instruments. He straightened his back against his seat and eyed each figure closely.

Yet Castiel didn't come out as the stream of people heading their own ways reduced to none. Dean frowned with disappointment creeping inside his mind. He was about to drive away from the parking lot when the familiar dark head finally stepped out, walking with his own two feet even.

Suddenly it was panic that Dean felt. What the fuck was he doing? Of course it was reckless, but then again, he was already there. He might as well go up to the guy and claim their meeting to be some damn coincidence.

One long swig from the flask, which was given by Sam three years back, was taken to boost up Dean's lost confidence before he slipped out of the heat of the car and into the fresh spring wind. He straightened his back more and more with every step he took, until he was standing tall with a kind and strangely real smile on his lips as he approached Castiel. "Hey," he breathed out, his voice slightly shaky. Since when had socializing become so hard when he wasn't trying to get someone to share a bed for the night?

Castiel turned towards Dean and he now realised how much different the violinist seemed compared to the previous day, his appearance much more neater and aura stiff and refined. "Hello." Even the voice had a slight tense tone to it. Really, it was like this Castiel was a completely different person.

"Uhh- I don't know if you remember, but-" Dean chuckled very nervously, his fingers scratching the back of his neck.

"I remember."

Dean froze for a moment. "Oh," was all that got out of his mouth as he tucked hands into his pockets and looked down with a blush on his face. Okay, now was time to figure out something smart to say, but what? There was a reason why Dean didn't talk to people much anymore, aside from drunken flirtations after spending a good while at a local bar.

He felt Castiel's stare burning on his skin before he looked up again, facing him. "Was there anything you needed?" He asked, lifting his violin case on his shoulder properly. "I would like to head home as soon as possible." He glanced quickly down to his foot, which Dean did not realise as his head was taken over by the fact that he had direct eye-contact with the blue eyed man.

Dean started fiddling with Sam's old amulet dangling from his neck when he broke from his daze and bit the insides of his cheeks. "Actually-" He started, but hesitated before continuing. "I was hoping-" _Hoping what?_

Castiel's stare started to feel suffocating. "Hoping what, exactly?" Castiel said, stating out loud what Dean had thought about only moments ago. At that second Dean hoped he would be the flirty, snarky bastard he used to be. Then he wouldn't have any problems talking to a complete stranger. Then he would already be at a nice restaurant on a date with Cas because, for God's sake, this was the first time in a year Dean had even showed any interest in forming a relationship with anyone.

"I, uh-" Dean muttered, hand travelling through the short hair. "This might sound a bit strange, but would you like to, I don't know, go out for dinner or something?"

"Excuse me?" Castiel gasped, his eyes widening in surprise. "You mean as in a date?" Dean nodded. Castiel crossed his arms across his chest with a frown and looked questionly at Dean. "Why on earth would I want to go on a date with you? First of all, I don't know your name!"

"It's Dean Winchester."

Castiel shot a glare at Dean before continuing. "And secondly, I saw you quit your job yesterday and you offered me a drink of god-knows-what from that flask of yours. From what I gather, at the moment you're unemployed and alcoholic on top of that." The violinist attitude was so much different from what Dean saw from yesterday. He had seemed somehow vulnerable, delicate. Now, even though he seemed confident, it seemed like an act, a shield to hide his true feelings with.

Dean shrugged and held back a laugh. "It's called whiskey and it's not that uncommon drink." His other hand slid around Castiel's shoulders and pulled him closer. "Besides, what does that have anything to do with dating?" He put on his cheekiest grin on and for a moment, the old Dean was back. The one that loved to be himself, loved to drive around in his Impala with no destination, loved to flirt with people, no matter of the gender or loved to devour a freshly baked pie all by himself. Most of all, it was the Dean before that accident. Not this drunkard who used most of his time on sleeping and drinking.

Castiel slipped from Dean's hold, his fingers tightening around his violin case's strap. "I don't date bums like you." Castiel hissed, taking steps backwards. "Well, I'd like to say see you later, but I'd prefer not."

Sighing, Dean considered following Castiel, or offering him a ride home, but decided against it. This whole fucking idea was stupid. What the hell he was even thinking?

Dean started marching towards his car as he pulled his loved flask out once again.

* * *

As the door to his room shut down and clicked as a sign of being locked, Castiel felt relief rushing through him. He pulled up his pant leg and started unstrapping the uncomfortable leg brace that honestly felt like it didn't help at all.

He put on a random CD before collapsing onto his bed and rolling to his back. He already was reaching for his meds, but deciding against it, took the book next to it instead. Castiel's favourite collection of short stories was battered, the corners of pages folded and the covers of the paperback book turning slightly outward with the wear reading caused it. It smelled like coffee that was once accidentally poured on it by Castiel's mother and slightly like Anna, from whom Castiel had stolen the book from.

Castiel turned to the page 186 and even though he knew the name of the author and the title, maybe even the whole story by heart, that small smile that was more of a tug at the corners of his lips spread on his face.

_Alternative Methods by Dean Smith_ it said on the top of the page with some overly-decorative font that really wasn't necessary. It didn't matter, not really. What did matter that even with the odd story that Dean Smith had written, the guy really knew how to write. The book really wasn't that great, all of the authors were average, the kind that you didn't even remember their names. Still in the midst of those mediocre sappy short stories was that one thing that stood out of others.

The disappointment Castiel felt when he found out that Dean Smith didn't have anything else published. He had hoped that the guy would have written something better, because Castiel thought he had potential. His writing style was unique and interesting, even though the plot of his short story was slightly clichéd. The fact that the book had been released only one and a half year ago had still made Castiel wish that maybe this still-unrecognised talent would be writing some kind of new book.

Castiel knew it was somehow weird, but he felt so intrigued by Dean Smith. He would really have wanted to meet him, talk to him about literature and about life in general. It might be silly, but he probably was harbouring a small crush on him.

Castiel felt idiotic admitting it, to like a person only through a 30-page-long story. Still, he couldn't help but imagine what he would be like. Would he have brown or blonde hair? What colour his eyes would be? What would he dress like? Did he listen to classic rock like himself? What kind of car did he drive?

The door flew suddenly open. "Castiel, for the thousandth time, come down to eat!" Lucifer barked, annoyance all over his face. Great, he was on the edge for two days straight now.

"I'm not hungry." Castiel complained like a little child, not tearing his eyes away from the book as he pretended to read. Lucifer did not make a move to exit Castiel's room but walked to the bed and pulled the book out of Castiel's hands. "I said I'm not hungry. Now go away." He propped himself up, glaring at his older brother.

"I bothered to make you dinner because you wouldn't eat anything otherwise. Now get up and drag yourself downstairs for a nice family meal." Lucifer started skipping out of the room, keeping the book in his hand to make sure that Castiel would follow. "Anna is at home too, by the way." He noted before disappearing from the door.

Castiel swallowed, knowing that the meal was going to be awkward to say the least. Anna and him used to be really tight, went to everywhere together and even started learning their instruments, Castiel violin and Anna piano, at the same time. They would at least once a week play together.

Of course, that's what it used to be. Now days Anna just bluntly avoided Castiel, had done it ever since Castiel started getting popular. It was jealousy and Castiel knew it. Already at young age, Anna had claimed that she would become a world-famous musician and she thought Castiel took away her dream by becoming so incredibly good and well-known.

Dragging himself downstairs, Castiel cursed in frustration under his breath. Anna was already at the table with Lucifer, eating the spaghetti and tomato sauce in silence. They didn't say a word even when Castiel on purpose pulled out a chair with a noise of legs scraping against the floor.

The lack of reaction annoyed Castiel so he sat down and scooped food to his plate in loud and theatrical movements, just to get something out of his siblings. "God Castiel, stop being such a baby!" Anna hissed, slamming her palms onto the table. "Can't you even eat one dinner without making a huge show out of it?!"

Castiel's blue eyes widened with surprise before he looked down to his barely-touched meal. "Well, sorry-" He muttered before pushing himself up and snatching his book from Lucifer. He took his plate to the other hand before glancing at his siblings once more. "Sorry that I can't behave the way you want me to." He mumbled, "I'll eat this in my room."

All he heard as he ascended the stairs was Anna complaining to Lucifer how Castiel didn't care about his family and how he thought he was the centre of the world. Nothing hurt Castiel more than hearing his sister think that lowly of him.

The plate full of spaghetti was forgotten on a drawer where it remained untouched until the next morning.

* * *

**AN: Hope you guys are enjoying this so far... I have the base of the story all figured out, but the little details are still pretty much open. I often get ideas for this while playing violin myself, but I try to work on this as much as possible. Also huge thanks to haizegato for suggesting that Cas could have read Dean's work. The suggestion got my ideas flying around.  
So, I'm open to more suggestions, if there is any as pretty much only few things are written on stone with this one. No promises that I will fill them, but it's still nice to hear them.  
Alright, see you in the next chapter, sweeties**


	4. Sometimes

**AN: Whew, I'm glad I managed to finish this chapter before I leave tomorrow. (Or actually today, as it's half past two in the morning.)  
I'm not that happy with this one, but it might have something to do with the fact I wrote about half of this sort of in a hurry. I might fix it a bit after I return on Sunday, if I feel like it.**

* * *

Even now Dean still kept the things Sam had owned in their places, just to convince himself that his brother was still alive.

His keys were still on the drawer by the door. There was that stupid Pikachu keychain, a remain from the time Sam had been obsessed with Pokémon, with its faded paint. The only way you could recognise the yellow blob to be the electric rat was its peculiar form. Only two keys dangled from the ring, their tiny apartment's and Sam's rusty bike's. Sometimes when Dean came home, he swore the keys had moved and he could smell the burnt food before the reality came crashing onto him again.

All those books Sam used to own were all in a nice line up on various shelves, shelves that Dean didn't touch that often. But after a drink or two when he lied on the too small couch quietly, his eyes would wander across the colourful backs in wonder. Randomly he would pick a book that he flipped through half-mindedly, wondering what Sammy had thought while reading the book. Sometimes, he would wake up from the sofa after falling asleep mid-reading, noticing the book back in its place on the shelf, like Dean would have never touched it.

The plaid shirts Sam always used to wear were still neatly folded in his closet. Sometimes, when Dean had forgotten to do his laundry, he would steal one of the shirts because he had nothing else to wear. Later on, when he would be doing his laundry and one of Sam's shirts would turn up, he would wash, iron and fold it nicely in Sam's closet because Dean remembered how his brother was always so annoying about it.

Those times when Dean actually bothered to make food for himself properly, not instant, he would always set another plate, utensils and a mug opposite of him. He would eat his food with Led Zeppelin playing too loudly while staring at the empty plate that no one would ever touch and thinking that Sammy must be late at the library again.

Because that's what his life was now, nothing but simple lies that he told himself.

The worst part was that he knew they were lies, but it didn't bother him at all.

"_Dean Winchester, you better open this fucking door or I swear to God I will break it down one way or another!_"

Dean woke up to the banging of his front door with a book open on top of his face. The sharp voice of a certain woman, who was way too loud considering her size, sounded to his apartment and made sure that Dean wouldn't go back to sleep in a while.

Dean intently dragged himself to the door slowly as he listened to Jess' complaining on the other side. "Well you're cheery so early in the morning." Dean commented after opening the door and leaning against the frame, yawning.

"It's three in the afternoon, Dean." Jess sighed and pushed a paper bag into his arms. "I brought you lunch, because you obviously don't eat anything."

"I eat!" Dean whined back, but still peeked inside the bag. A hamburger and fries, not exactly a healthy meal, but not like Jess couldn't afford anything better, still being a student. Dean's mouth watered slightly, it was not like he didn't eat on purpose, he was just too lazy to care and he didn't have much money after all the beer he always bought.

Jess spun around on her heels, setting her hands on her tiny waist. "Instant noodles once a day doesn't count as eating! Even that hamburger is better than that!" She scoffed and proceeded on cleaning up empty beer bottles and collecting dirty clothes from the floor to do laundry. Dean didn't know at what point this happened, but Jess had started acting like a mother towards him, making sure he ate properly and cleaning up his messes.

Dean settled on the sofa to eat, his hands taking out the burger and his green eyes stared at it hungrily. "So, why are you here?" He asked as he peeled out his food out of its wrapper. "You don't come here that often to just bring me food. You usually just make those angry calls." He moaned happily at the familiar taste of a burger in his mouth as he bit into his lunch. Only if he could afford to buy them every day.

"Oh right." Jess stated like she just remembered something. Digging her purse that hung from her shoulder, she pulled a pair of paper slips, tickets to be precise. "I was supposed to go to this concert with a friend of mine, but neither of us could make it. We decided instead to set you up on a blind date."

"You WHAT?" Dean's eyebrows shot upwards in surprise and he stared at Jess, whose expression did not change. "Did you happen to notice that I'm not exactly the type that girls want to date?"

Settling down on the sofa next to Dean, Jess' expression turned determined. "I thought that's exactly the problem. You drown yourself in alcohol because you're lonely!" Dean kept munching on his burger while he frowned at Jess' words. She swallowed and her eyes travelled around the room as she tried to find the right words to explain him her good intentions. "We thought- If you could find the right girl, she could get you back on the right road." She fiddled nervously with her fingers as she spoke and Dean stared at her hands curiously.

He knew Jess meant well, she just wanted Dean to get back on his own two feet. "Okay." He muttered and got back to eating his absolutely-too-delicious hamburger.

"O-Okay? Just like that?"

Dean shrugged as he threw the last piece into his mouth and started digging the fries out of the paper bag. "Yeah. It's not like it's end of the world or anything. I can survive one goddamn date."

A smile widened to Jess' beautiful face when she handed the two tickets over to Dean. "His concerts are often sold-out, so it's kind of a disappointment that I can't make it myself. He is apparently quite good." She rambled. Dean's eyes immediately settled on the name of the concert's main event while she continued on explaining about the guy's career.

_Castiel Novak_

Great, just fucking brilliant.

* * *

Castiel lied on top of his bed, breathing slowly in and out.

Finally the day of the concert had come, but he didn't know if he should be really fucking nervous or relieved. Castiel had learned to hate these concerts Lucifer made him do. 'It was to make Castiel well-known', he said. Castiel often told Lucifer before a concert that it would be his last one in a while. Still, soon Lucifer would be announcing another concert in about a month across the country and Castiel couldn't complain anything about it.

The only good thing out of these goddamn concerts was the way Castiel's mother would praise him on those rare occasions she would call. It made Castiel happy, hearing how proud his mother was of him and how she wished she could make it into one of them someday. She really wanted to see her little boy play in front of all those people.

Rolling off his bed, Castiel headed downstairs to get himself something to eat before getting dressed for the evening. Anna was there, spread all over the sofa to watch some soap opera. Both of them ignored each other, like always, as Castiel went to the kitchen.

Taking out a yoghurt from the fridge, Castiel frowned, realising he hadn't seen Lucifer at all that day. "Anna" He called his sister as he headed back to the living room. "Anna" Castiel repeated because Anna had made no gesture to show she was listening. "Where's Lucifer? He was supposed to drive me to the concert hall today."

"I don't know." The red-head grumbled and kept her eyes on the TV-screen. "Walk, it would do you some good."

"You know very well I can't do that." Castiel answered, but Anna didn't make any comment, though Castiel waited for almost a minute. "Fine." Castiel sighed as he dragged himself back upstairs to get himself ready.

* * *

The concert hall was buzzing with people and Dean straightened his tie probably for the thousandth time in the span of fifteen minutes. It was still another fifteen minutes before the concert would start and it was about now that Dean was supposed to meet his date for the evening in the exact spot he was standing at.

Dean had dressed up in the only suit he still owned. The few years wear could be noticed from it, but more worried Dean was of the fact that it had been tucked not-so-neatly in his closet and had had some really noticeable wrinkles. He had luckily managed to get the surface nice and smooth, at least he hoped so.

"Dean Winchester?"

Dean turned around to meet green eyes of a woman who was about his age. Her hair was a colour of bright red and it curled nicely to her shoulders. She was wearing a simple black evening dress that hugged her body just in the right way. Dean held down a whistle as he smiled widely at the woman. "That's me. And you are?"

The woman shoved her hand forward, giving Dean a nervous smile. "Charlie Bradbury."

Dean nodded and took Charlie's hand. "It's nice to meet you Charlie." He forced his normal flirty grin on his face as he shook her hand, only to get a roll of her eyes as a response. Dean offered his arm to Charlie, who stared at it questionly. "Come on, I'm trying to be a gentleman here." Dean sighed, dropping his arm back down. "Anyway, shall we go find our seats?"

"Alright." Charlie mumbled and followed behind Dean as he walked towards the doors that led to the hall.

As Castiel entered through the doors of the concert hall, he swore he saw Dean Winchester for a second, dressed in a suit that looked fucking good on him. Castiel frowned slightly at his thoughts and shook his head to get them away. For now, he had to focus on tonight's concert.

Castiel sneaked towards the backstage while cursing Lucifer for making him be late. Everybody else was already ready when Castiel arrived, gaining a few angry glares from the orchestra members. "Mr Novak, you're late!" Zachariah, the conductor, hissed as he saw Castiel in his messed up state. "Never mind, just get yourself in presentable shape and get ready."

With that, Castiel frowned, but took off his tan trench coat, straightened his clothes and took out his violin before he nodded to Zachariah to signal that he was ready.

People started clapping as Castiel stepped onto the stage with the conductor. Dean, however, couldn't help but swallow at the sight of the violinist in his white dress shirt and black waistcoat that fit perfectly his body. "Hey, you alright?" Charlie whispered from next to him curiously, seeing Dean's reaction.

Dean nodded, his eyes fixed on Castiel. The violinist's whole posture was so refined and the way he held himself was something Dean couldn't help but drool over.

The orchestra begun playing at the conductor's signal, but Castiel still stood there, those blue eyes, that Dean unfortunately couldn't see, not really fixed on anything. Soon he set the wooden brown violin with a reddish hue under his chin, readying himself to play.

The surprisingly low sound of the violin sounded over the other instruments. Castiel's fingers played over the strings in so fast pace Dean wouldn't have thought was possible. The whole air around the man changed as he played. He seemed more serious. Though the music was so fucking amazing, Dean couldn't get rid of the feeling that Castiel didn't enjoy playing. He wasn't sure. Something just seemed off.

* * *

"So, are you gay?"

Charlie asked this question during the interval as they stood back in the lobby. "Bi, actually, why do you ask?" Dean answered, slightly confused.

She shrugged and rolled her eyes. "You were totally drooling after that dreamy violinist. I guess it would have been awkward for me as your date, but I don't really care, as I am only into girls."

Dean looked Charlie from head-to-toe, confused even more. "And yet here you are. On a date with a man." He chuckled and tucked his hands into his pockets and leaned against a wall. "Why did you agree to go on a date with me if you are gay?" He asked carefully.

"Jess was being persistent and honestly, she slightly scared me so I didn't dare to tell her I'm not attracted to men." Charlie admitted and leaned against the wall next to Dean. "Now that I got that out of my chest, do you want to end this date now or shall we go back inside for more culture." She asked, slightly laughing, which actually made Dean relax more.

Dean chuckled and pushed himself away from the wall. "Actually this is sort of a relief for me too. If you're not tired yet, I wouldn't mind you joining me to drool over that dreamy violinist."

"I think one of the cello players was more my type, but I think I could still come." Charlie stated as she followed Dean back to the hall.


	5. Coffee and confessions

**AN: My apologies for taking so long. My personal life is quite a mess at the moment...**

* * *

Scent of rain drifted through an open window and into Castiel's room. He rolled to his side and pulled the sheets over his head, blocking the light from his still weary eyes. It took him a while before he registered the noise that had woken him up, an annoying repetitive sound that wouldn't stop, no matter how he covered his ears. All he wanted to do was fall asleep, but the alarm he had set was persistent, refusing to turn off by itself.

Castiel set an angry glare on his alarm clock as he pushed the sheets from on top of him. The way he stared at it, like it was a spawn of Satan, mirrored his thoughts of wanting to throw it into the wall with all his strength.

To put it bluntly, Castiel certainly wasn't a morning person.

Despite his feelings of hatred towards the device that had pulled him from his dreams, Castiel didn't abuse it in any way as he turned it off and dragged himself up from the warmth of his bed.

It was the first time in a while Castiel was heading to the university since Lucifer had decided that preparing for the concert was more important than studying. Though school stressed him, it was much better than being hurled up inside his room and playing classic rock while sobbing quietly. His mental health practically required presence of other people, excluding his family, even if he wasn't that much of a social person.

When he took his meds and tilted the bottle to get some of the pills, he frowned when only two dropped on his palm. Shouldn't there have been more? Castiel hadn't realised he was running out, but made a mental note of visiting the drug store while he was in town. He still popped the last two pills into his mouth, swallowing them dry.

It didn't take long for Castiel to tug on his boring and ordinary clothes and snatch the keys of his disgustingly orange Fiat Punto. His car had broken down about three weeks back, forcing him to wait at the side of the road for full two hours before Lucifer had picked him up.

As soon as Castiel stepped out of the door, his phone vibrated inside his pocket._ "Coming over to the café at lunch today? You were awesome at the concert btw." _ Castiel smiled at the text.

"_Yeah, see you then"_ He typed up quickly before he slipped inside his tiny car.

* * *

It was around at eleven when Castiel slipped into the stupid chain café that his friend worked at. His morning lecture had crawled by slowly, but finally he had been released. Of course he had headed to the café immediately, missing his probably only friend.

"I didn't know you were coming to the concert. I would have loved to see you." He said with a smile on his face as he leaned against the counter.

Charlie leaned in from the other side, a smirk playing on her lips, and her ponytail dropped to her other shoulder. "Sorry, I was on a date." She confessed, practically beaming, which honestly somehow worried Castiel.

He quirked a brow in surprise. "A date? Who's the lucky girl? You must have had amazing time if you're so happy about it." Last time Charlie had been on a date was over three months ago, at least as far as Castiel knew, so this came as a surprise to him. Castiel was sure that she would have told him about her date.

"Yeah, I had a great time, but it was actually a guy." The look on Castiel's face at that moment, mixed with shock and confusion, was probably one of the most amusing things Charlie had ever seen. "And no, I'm still not interested in men, if you're wondering about that."

Castiel leaned in closer and a curious smile formed on his lips as he got past the initial shock. "So enlighten me." He encouraged Charlie. "Why in the world did you go on a date with a man? And I'm quite curious why it makes you so cheery."

She pushed up from the counter, her smirk widening devilishly. "I was kind of forced to go on that date, but that doesn't matter." She spun around and begun making a coffee, most likely Castiel's usual. "As for why I am cheery, it has something to do with my last night's date, but I'll keep it as a surprise, for now."

A worried feeling twisted inside his gut. Charlie's schemes more often than not somehow didn't turn out the way she had planned, though she always meant well.

The sound of the bell above the shop's door caught Charlie's attention as she set down Castiel's drink and she smirked. "Dean! I'm glad you could make it!" She cheered as she motioned the man come towards the counter. Castiel spun around curiously, noticing a familiar handsome face with a maybe slightly tight smile on the lips.

"What is he doing here?" Castiel hissed to himself, his body tensing all over. Dean's expression, however, seemed to relax at the sight of Castiel. His whole being seemed to get more confident as he straightened his back and took quicker steps to reach the violinist. Castiel rolled his eyes at Dean and crossed his hands on top of his chest. "Hello Dean." He said dryly to him and looked at him questionly.

Dean winked at Castiel as he stood at a moderate distance from him. "Nice to see you too Cas."

"Wait- You two know each other?" Charlie questioned, surprise painted all over her face. "Oh god, Jimmy, please tell me I didn't try to hook you up with your stalker or something." She gasped, immediately thinking of the worst possible thing.

Castiel sighed and ignored Dean's confusion at the name 'Jimmy'. "Calm down Charlie, I have only met him twice and that was two weeks ago." Then he turned to Dean, tilting his head curiously. "What I'd like to know, however, is why she is trying to hook me up with a good-for-nothing like you?" He muttered, examining Dean from head to toe with his piercing blue eyes.

"Give him a chance, Jimmy. Dean is actually a really good guy." Charlie pleaded and gave Castiel a puppy-eyes-look. She then turned to Dean. "What would you like to have Dean?"

Castiel glared at the both of them before he took his coffee and hogged himself a table from the corner. He pushed headphones into his ears and took a newspaper from a nearby stand that he started flipping through, shutting the outside world completely out.

Charlie pushed Dean's order of regular coffee with an apologetic smile. "He does that sometimes. You just have to be bit persistent. I know that he just plays a bit hard to get." She explained and nudged her head towards Castiel. "Could you just try? I want to see him happy for once."

"I'll try." Dean promised and took his cup of coffee before he headed to Castiel's table. As he sat down, Castiel did glance at him quickly and then returned to his newspaper, completely ignoring the other man. Dean waited for a minute or two for Castiel to acknowledge him, but his eyes stubbornly scanned the paper on the table. Finally, with a frown on his face, Dean pulled on the cords of Castiel's headphones, causing them to come out of his ears with a 'pop'. "So, Jimmy…" He stated with a smile on his face.

"Please do not call me that."

"Why not?"

Castiel took a sip from his drink. "Castiel is what most people call me, Jimmy is-" He licked his lips as he searched for a fitting word. "Let's just say special."

Dean leaned against his hand and his eyes were filled with curiosity. "Where does the name 'Jimmy' come from then?"

He had no plans answering but as Dean persistently kept his eyes on Castiel, urging him to answer, he gave up with a sigh. "Castiel James Milton" He said, turning his gaze to a rather pointless article that he wasn't even reading properly.

"Excuse me?" Dean said, frowning slightly.

Castiel felt a blush creep on his cheeks and he had no idea why. "Castiel James Milton is my real name. Jimmy comes from my second name, James." He mumbled and played with a corner of the newspaper. "I- Uh- Prefer to use it on certain occasions. When I don't, you know, want to be recognised."

Dean nodded, understanding that Castiel didn't want to talk about it more than that. "What about Novak?" When Castiel tilted his head and he squinted his eyes, Dean continued. "I mean, if Milton is your real last name, where does Novak come from?"

"Novak is my mother's maiden name. Well, she probably has started using it again."

"You parents are divorced?"

Castiel nodded hesitantly. He had no idea why he was telling this to Dean. The guy was practically a stranger, there was no way of knowing what he was like in reality. Behind all his charming smiles and beautiful green eyes could be anything and while that idea scared Castiel, it also peaked his interest. "About four years ago." He admitted. "I rarely see either of them so it doesn't matter."

"I see" Dean muttered and poured some coffee into his mouth. Castiel noticed his fingers twitching at the cup's handle, maybe itching to pour some alcohol into the dark liquid. "Y-You were really amazing yesterday, at the concert." Dean slightly stuttered as he formed the sentence, his fingers still fumbling at the cup.

Castiel couldn't stop the smile spreading to his face so he lifted the cup of Café Mocha to his lips to hide it. "Thank you-" He muttered, a blush creeping on his face. "_Maybe Dean is not a bad person after all"_ Castiel thought to himself as he followed the other man's every move closely. "You didn't look half bad yourself." He blurted out without realising, his blue eyes meeting green when his eyes widened.

"You saw me?" Dean questioned, way too full of himself. Castiel could see a glint of happiness in Dean's eyes before he set his gaze back onto the table.

Biting into his lip, Castiel searched for his next words carefully. "I did," He admitted quietly. "I mean, I wasn't sure if it was you, but I was quite sure. I kind of brushed it off because I assumed you wouldn't even afford the tickets." He added hastily, embarrassment showing from his whole being. "But- Uh, you did look rather attractive in that suit." Castiel eventually added even though he didn't believe he managed to pass those words from his lips.

Dean leaned with both of his hands on the table as close as possible to Castiel. "You think I'm attractive?" He asked and you could see how each of Castiel's sentences made him smile wider and wider. "So um-" He started, but paused to lick his lips nervously. "Would this be appropriate time to ask you out for a date?" He approached cautiously.

"No."

"No?"

"Absolutely not." Castiel confirmed with a crooked smile.

Frowning, Dean examined Castiel's relaxed facial expressions. "And why is that?" He asked, curiosity taking over everything else. His eyes dropped to Castiel's absolutely kissable light pink lips, how his grin seemed almost confident. He lifted his eyes again, green meeting blue for what seemed like the thousandth time that afternoon.

"Because-" Castiel said and pushed himself up from the table. "I'm not looking for a romantic relationship at the moment." Dean's face seemed to drop with disappointment, at which Castiel felt the urge to tease the other man even more, though he admitted to himself that he shouldn't be that cruel. "However, I wouldn't mind a friendship, for now at least."

Dean's face brightened immediately. "How about you give me your number then?" Castiel shook his head and smiled devilishly. "What? Why not?"

"I don't feel like giving it to you yet." Castiel chuckled before turning around on his heels. He bid goodbyes to Charlie as he paced towards the door, feeling Dean's stunned eyes glued to his back as he slipped out of the café.


End file.
